One Night Only
by undapperthought
Summary: BP!Kurt never should have accepted an offer from the handsome stranger after the show. Will what started out as a great night end up as the worst night of his life? Is it going to be his last? Warnings for non-con, kidnapping, non-con drugs, bondage, watersports, violence, mutilation, voyeurism, sadism, torture, blood, gore, fisting, serial killer!Blaine, and general horror.
1. Chapter 1

This story is very graphic and very fucked up in general, containing a horror of torture, violence, bloodshed, and a very sadistic serial killer!Blaine.

I would not be surprised if no one reads it. If you choose to read on, well, you can't say you weren't warned.

"I'll catch you later, Rachel." Kurt called out, waiving to his co-star and best friend as he signed more autographs for the fans waiting outside by the backstage door. He'd just about made it through the crowd when his blue eyes were met by a set of gorgeous honey-hazel ones. The man they belonged to was breathtakingly gorgeous and waiting patiently, despite the freezing December night, while Kurt made sure he graciously signed every program eagerly held out to him.

"Brilliant performance," the man finally spoke as Kurt capped his pen and tucked it away in his coat pocket. "You were amazing."

Kurt blushed. He still wasn't used to being gushed over, even though the world had been seeing his name in lights for several years now. "Thank you. And thanks for coming to the show." Kurt thought the man looked somewhat familiar. "Haven't I seen you out here before?"

"Possibly. My brother dragged me out in the cold for the matinee the other day," the man laughed, "but I'm glad he did. I enjoyed it."

"Well, I'm glad you liked it," Kurt said. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"My name's Blaine," the man offered, extended a gloved hand. "Blaine Anderson."

Blaine. A handsome name to go with a handsome package, Kurt decided.

"It's nice to meet you, Blaine. I'm Kurt Hummel." Kurt said, shaking the man's hand as he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, too." He paused for a moment as they locked eyes once more. "This might seem a little forward, but would you maybe like to go grab a drink with me, Kurt? I'm sure you have better things to do and all," Blaine rambled, "but I'd really like to get to know you and-"

"I'd love to," Kurt cut in. "There's a little dive bar around the block and up a few streets that I like to go to sometimes. It isn't much, but it's fairly private. Sound okay?"

"Sure." Blaine answered with a smile.

The two of them walked, side by side, over to the bar a few blocks away. While there, they talked about everything from 'Which is better, dogs or cats?' (they both agreed to disagree, but that kittens and puppies were equally adorable) to 'Morning person or night person?' (Blaine was a morning person. Kurt, not so much) and they even argued passionately over 'Tastier, apples or oranges?' They sat in their booth tucked away in a corner, discovering more personal things about one another, until the rum and diet Cokes Kurt had been enjoying demand release, and he excused himself to the restroom.

Kurt returned and he made it through another drink and a half before his thoughts became fuzzy and he felt dizzy and overwhelmingly tired.

"Okay. I think maybe you've had enough there, Kurt." Blaine chuckled, holding him up as he led them outside. "Let's get you a taxi."

It was the last thing Kurt remembered hearing before passing out completely.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt's eyes opened slowly, revealing nothing but darkness around him. He was cold, nauseous and hungover, and as he tried to sit up, found he couldn't. Before he could call out for help, lights overhead brightened suddenly, temporarily blinding him for a moment. He was laying on his back, naked, strapped to a table with a bar between his knees so that he couldn't close them. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the figure of a man coming closer. It wasn't until the man spoke that Kurt recognized him.

"Good. You're awake." Blaine smirked. "I was starting to worry that I had overdosed you and we can't have that, now can we?"

Kurt groaned at the sound of his voice. His head was pounding, and his vision wasn't completely in focus yet.

"What's going on?" Kurt mumbled, trying to move against the restraints holding him down. "Why am I chained up? Is this some kind of a joke? Did Ryan put you up to this?" Ryan was their director and a real grade 'A' asshole. He was always pulling jokes on cast members. No one really thought they were funny, but they put up with it, just happy to have someone signing their paychecks. However, he usually stuck to the classics, like unscrewing the lid on the salt shaker, or putting plastic wrap over the toilet bowl in the restroom. Kidnapping seemed like quite a leap, now that he gave it a second thought.

"Relax, Kurt. We're just going to have a little fun with that sweet little pussy of yours, and we'll see how it goes, okay?" Blaine said sweetly, as if he was trying to reassure him, adjusting something under the table. Suddenly, Kurt's legs dropped as the lower half of the table fell away. Kurt could better see Blaine as he moved back to survey the scene. He was barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting blue jeans slung low on his hips.

"How did you find out?" Kurt asked. The fact that his anatomy wasn't exactly typical for a man was something he wasn't ashamed of, but he didn't go around broadcasting it to everyone either.

"I heard rumors," Blaine answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Did a little investigating of my own, and managed to find one of your ex's. Threw a little cash his way and he sang like a canary. He was pretty, by the way; you have good taste. It's a shame he won't ever sing again. He said you were quite the kinky little fucker, too. I never thought you had that in you. Although, you won't be having anyone worshiping at your feet and begging to lick your boots today. Sorry."

Blaine settled himself between Kurt's spread legs, as close as the spreader bar would allow. He ran his fingers through the hair between Kurt's legs and gave a hard tug. "Nope. This won't do," Blaine tutted. "This won't do at all. Want to be able to see all of you."

Kurt watched as Blaine turned to a table laid out items he couldn't quite decipher, and picked up a roll of duct tape. "Now bear with me, if you would. I'm not sure how well this is going to work." Blaine said, tearing off a long piece with his teeth.

As soon as Kurt realized what Blaine intended to do with the tape, his eyes widened and his pulse quickened. "No! Please!" he begged. "You don't have to do this. Let me go."

"But I'm just getting started." Blaine shot a wide toothy grin at him. "Now hold still." He applied the tape to Kurt's pubic hair like a wax strip, smoothed it down, and ripped it back.

Kurt screamed as a few hairs and a bit of skin came off with the tape. Blaine slapped him across the face and smiled again. "Shut up, dear. Save your voice. You're going to need it for the show." He looked at the used strip of tape in his hand. Displeased with the results, he balled it up and tossed it in a corner of the room.

"Show? What show?" Kurt shrieked, still fighting against his restraints. "What are you talking about? Let me go you sick fuck!"

"You, my dear, are a star. You're live online as we speak. I've got about twenty or so people, fans of yours as it turns out, willing to shell out a pretty penny and they've logged on just to see you. Some of them have even been nice enough to write in, tossing me a few ideas. Once word got out about you having this," Blaine said, as he roughly jammed his middle finger into Kurt's pussy, "they went crazy. Everyone wants a piece. So smile for the camera." Blaine nodded over to the table, and Kurt finally saw what Blaine was talking about. A small laptop was open, its web-cam pointed at directly at him, the one and only Kurt Hummel, bound naked for all the world to see.

"I read a few of their suggestions earlier, before you came to. I have to admit, they are going to be a bit more fun for me than they are for you. Now," Blaine took a deep breath and let it out, slapping his hands on Kurt's thighs, "what shall we do with this ri-goddamn-diculous bush you have going on here?" Kurt blushed and tried uselessly to bring his knees together yet again.

Blaine grabbed a mug and a small black towel from the table. He set the mug down carefully next to Kurt, and picked out the shaving brush, coating it in rich white lather.

"Relax, Kurt. You might actually enjoy this part," Blaine smiled at him. "Pure Castile shaving soap, imported directly from Italy. Very good for the skin. I use it myself." He brought the brush and began to coat where he intended to shave.

He set the mug back down on the table when he had Kurt lathered up to his liking and pulled something from his back pocket. With a flick of his wrist, Kurt was able to see the overhead light glinting off the object and his heart jumped to his throat in terror as the straight razor opened in his hand and he moved in close.

"You'll want to keep as still as you can, Kurt." Blaine placed a hand on Kurt and stretched the skin taught. "Things could get ugly if you don't." Using short, even strokes, he slowly and thoroughly removed every trace of hair between Kurt's legs with the sharp blade. Kurt kept as calm as he possibly could, given that his body was trembling, afraid that the slightest twitch would cause Blaine to slip and mutilate him.

When he finished, Blaine wiped away the leftover residue with the towel. As he inspected his work, he noticed a few nicks in Kurt's skin. "We'll have to clean this up. Can't have you getting an infection."

Blaine reached over and picked a small bottle of rubbing alcohol from the table. He poured some onto a clean corner of the towel. "Now this may sting a bit," he said, applying the alcohol to Kurt's cuts, causing him to hiss.

Blaine stepped back, admiring the sight of freshly revealed pink skin. "You have such a nice pussy. I'm going to have a lot of fun with you." He reached a hand out and ran his fingers over the delicate fleshy folds.

To Kurt's horror, he could feel himself reacting to Blaine's touch. He hadn't had sex with anyone that didn't function on AA batteries in a few months, and his body was more than eager, no matter how much Kurt's heart and mind were against it.

Blaine noticed how the glide became easier as Kurt became to get wet. He thrust two fingers into Kurt and roughly fucked him. Kurt whimpered. He was still too dry for what was happening and it hurt. The louder Kurt whined, the harder Blaine went, adding another two fingers, causing Kurt to scream out in pain as he thrashed, trying to get away.

Blaine removed his fingers. "You'll never be able to take everything that way."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

Blaine picked up a small bottle from the table and dripped its contents over his fingers. He rubbed some over Kurt's hole, smearing it with the blood beginning to prick up from small tear in his skin. He pushed in with all four fingers, causing Kurt to tense up with a yelp. Blaine couldn't get his fingers in as far as he had wanted, so he pushed harder. Kurt tried to squirm away, but it was no use. "Stop! Please stop! They don't fucking fit, that hurts! Please!" Kurt screamed. It was all he could do as long as the straps held him in place.

"We'll just have to find another way then, won't we?" Blaine mocked, pulling his hand free. He picked up something Kurt couldn't see, but knew what it was as soon as the cold metal slid inside of him. Blaine clicked the speculum to its widest setting, locking it in place. Kurt wasn't used to being so spread open. It wasn't comfortable in the least. He'd been on the receiving end of them before, but it was never like this when his doctor was on the other end.

Kurt flinched when he felt Blaine's fingers stroking his insides. Blaine had more room now, and was touching him everywhere he could. He continued for a few minutes, but was nowhere closer to the results he seemed to want.

"Fuck it." Blaine grunted, pulling back to tug at the zipper of his jeans. Kurt lifted his head in time to see Blaine pulling his cock free. He wasn't wearing underwear. He leaned over Kurt, pressed himself against Kurt's opened pussy, and sighed. It took a few seconds, but Kurt was horrified to realize what was going on as Blaine's warm piss began to fill him, running back out just as fast to puddle under his ass on the table. It grew cold almost instantly against the metal beneath him. He took in a deep breath and closed his tear-blurred eyes, feeling his stomach flip as he tried not to vomit in disgust. He knew he would choke if he did.

Blaine's flow trickled to a stop, and the speculum was slid out with a gush of spent urine. Kurt felt a blunt pressure as Blaine again pushed four fingers into him. They went in easier, and Blaine twisted his thumb around, pushing the knuckle against Kurt's rim, determined to make his whole hand fit. With a hard shove and a scream from Kurt, his body finally gave way as the muscles of his perineum began to tear, Blaine sank in deep.

"Ha! I knew it would fit!" Blaine laughed, pulling his fist out to catch at the widest part of his hand, punching back in just as deep a few more times as he watched the blood coat his wrist.

"Fuck you," Kurt managed to spit out.

"Actually, I'm fucking you," Blaine corrected, pulling his hand free to slap it down hard onto Kurt's clit. "But that's just semantics, I guess."

Blaine pulled a crushed pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and shook one free between his lips. He produced a book of matches and lit the smoke, drawing a deep drag. He watched the flame flicker between his fingertips as the match burnt down. As it smoldered, Blaine reached forward, pressing the glowing ember against Kurt's left nipple. "Filthy habit, I know, but I'm getting very tired of listening to you bitch and moan so much. You are the star here! You are the one with the adoring fans. You, of all people, should know to give the audience what it wants. And you haven't even greeted your audience yet." Blaine pinched his singed nipple and twisted. "These people paid some damn good money to see your show. Isn't this what you love? To be the star? The center of attention? Say hello, Kurt."

Kurt groaned in pain. "H-hello." His voice was barely audible, hoarse from screaming.

"That's better. I think you might be starting to get it now. You do what I tell you, and things will go much better for you. Fight me, and, well. You don't want to make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." Blaine warned as he zipped himself back into his jeans.

"And just to be sure we don't have to listen to any more bitching from you," Blaine moved up the table toward Kurt's head, "a little something to occupy that pretty mouth of yours." Blaine had the gag in Kurt's mouth and buckled behind his head before Kurt realized what was happening.

"I have something I want to show you." Blaine stepped over to the table once again, moving a long wooden box closer to him. "I made it myself, just for you. A gift." He lifted the lid and removed the black leather flogger from its velvet lining. "Twenty-one strands of thinly braided leather, each tipped with a stainless steel barb. Took me almost a week to do it, but I think it was worth it, don't you?"

Kurt's eyes widened at the sight of it, and he barely had time to whimper before Blaine was bringing it down sharply across his ribcage. His scream was muffled behind the gag as it ripped into his flesh, making stripes well up on his skin.

"Mmm. Much better." Blaine struck him a few more times, painting patterns across Kurt's pale body as he began to bleed where the skin had broken open. "Beautiful, actually. Needs a bit of contrast though." He took a black candle from the table and light it with another match from the pack. He put the flame out on Kurt's inner thigh and tossed the charred stick over his shoulder.

Blaine adjusted the table again, and Kurt was tipped backwards, his lower half raised higher than his head, almost upside down. He felt the blood rush to his head, making him dizzy. He fought against it, determined not to black out.

Blaine pushed the base of the lit and dripping candle into Kurt's bleeding and swollen pussy, twisting and repositioning it several times to get it at just the right angle. Kurt was in so much pain, he didn't even register the superficial burns the hot wax made on his skin as it dripped down to puddle on his chest.

The candle didn't stay upright very long. When it fell over one time too many, Blaine decided to do something about it.

"You seem to be a bit lose, you know that?" Blaine told him, opening another box from the table of torture instruments. He returned to Kurt with a long needle, threaded with a thick black thread. "No worries. We can fix that." Blaine returned the candle to its previous position and began sewing Kurt abused flesh around it. Kurt was exhausted, and had no energy left in his body to fight.

A 'ding' sounding from the laptop speakers signaled the arrival of a new message just as the thread was tied off and the extra length snipped away. Blaine stepped over to the computer and smiled as he began to read aloud. "Hmm. I like this one," he said, looking directly into the webcam that continued to broadcast live across the world. "'Cut out his clit and feed it to him.' Points for creativity there." He turned to Kurt as he again pulled the razor from his pocket. "You've worked hard tonight. I think it's time for a snack. What do you think, Kurt?"

Kurt could see the sharp blade glinting back at him in the light once again, and the last thing he felt was the warmth of his own urine leaving his broken body as he slipped into a coma of merciful nothingness once more.


End file.
